


all your life you've never seen a woman taken by the wind

by IWasMeantToFeel



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Mourning, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-07-11 10:19:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7044448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWasMeantToFeel/pseuds/IWasMeantToFeel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cordelia mourns Misty after the Seven Wonders lead to her death... but what if the witch has found a way to return to the world of the living?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This will definitely be continued if I think people are reading it, so leave me a comment/kudos if you do :) The pairing is honestly my favourite thing, I can't get over how much I love them. Also feel free to leave me prompts for other fics involving the two of them.

The moment she felt Misty Day fall apart into ashes in her arms, Cordelia Foxx began to fall apart too. She dragged herself through the talks with the press, the process of admitting new girls to the school and all the duties a Supreme had to contend with, with the determination of someone who had known nothing but success in their lifetime. But she knew in her heart that she had failed. Failed Misty, failed the coven. Fiona had told her that she was wilfully blind, and that was true. Misty had told her that she didn’t want to be Supreme. She’d told her that to her face and Cordelia had disregarded it completely. She had seen how much potential to be great the swamp witch had, even with her noticeable twang and her messy hair and her frayed garments. Those things had just been part of her bewitching charm, and Cordelia knew she had become charmed by her, just as she had grown to look forward to Misty’s presence by her side in the greenhouse, looking down at her with those wide, questioning eyes as they talked about plants and magic and life. Cordelia had seen her potential and she’d forced her own ambition upon her, and that had led to Misty’s death. She blamed herself entirely.

The first month of Misty’s absence went by quickly, in the daylight hours at least. She was too busy to stop and think about the girl, because thinking about her took up all of her mind and body with the heaviness of guilt and sadness and pain, and she didn’t have time for that. But at night, when she retreated to her big, empty bedroom, memories would invade her and it was impossible not to recollect all the nights the two of them had spent side by side in the double bed, falling asleep on opposite sides, as far apart as possible to avoid awkwardness, and waking up tangled, Cordelia’s face buried in Misty’s blonde locks. Now, as she turns the pillow over in an attempt to fall asleep, she catches the scent of Misty in the fabric; a combination of lavender, aloe vera, and sweet earthiness. It makes her throat tighten and her chest ache. She squeezes her eyes tightly shut, but it doesn’t help at all.

After two months nothing’s got better, and time passes slower now. Cordelia soothes her pain by comforting others - girls who are homesick or being bullied flock to her office. Zoe tells her she’s become a mother figure for all of them. Cordelia’s personal favourite is a tiny blonde girl called Jasmin, with wild curls and permanently dirty fingernails from hours spent playing outside. She must be about eleven, and Cordelia tells herself it’s not favouritism, and the girl doesn’t remind her of a certain wild-haired witch in the slightest. One day Jasmin finds Cordelia alone in the greenhouse, rubbing the leaves of the plant she and Misty grew together between her fingers and swallowing back tears. She brushes off the girl’s concern.

Three months brings some relief, and Cordelia stops seeing Misty in everything. She throws herself into her responsibilities. Queenie and Zoe hold her together, but she doesn’t speak of her grief to them - they assume that it’s just stress which makes her body permanently tense and guarded. Misty’s belongings are in a chest in the attic, and when she feels ready, she goes up the stairs and uses her sight to find where Misty’s home in the swamps had been. On a free day she travels out there, but she’d forgotten the way it had been raining since the girl’s death. The waters have risen up and claimed the small wooden house, dragging it apart at the seams and washing its contents away. She stands on a grassy bank and fishes out a Fleetwood Mac record that has been caught by the branches of a fallen tree. She breaks down there, staring across the murky water with her vision blurred.

Four months, five months pass. By the sixth month, she’s still listening to the scratched record on repeat, a memorial to the girl who has completely stolen her heart. With her newfound power and status come advances, from men. She finds herself in bed with one of them at the end of a night, but as he’s unbuttoning her blouse she sees Misty lying next to her on her first night at the academy, quietly musing that maybe she has indeed found her tribe. She pushes him away and tells him she can’t.

After a year, the academy is absolutely thriving. There are over 300 pupils, and they’ve expanded to three buildings, having purchased the two on either side of the original one. Zoe and Queenie are house leaders, and Cordelia is the best headmistress the academy has ever seen - calm, collected, and just. They have gained two new teachers - twenty-something year old girls who have passed all of Cordelia’s tests. Awareness is spreading about witches. They no longer have to hide - people look at them in awe instead of scepticism, with fondness instead of suspicion. She won’t try to pretend that they aren’t still a tourist attraction of New Orleans, but at least it’s not hostility that faces them when they leave the safety of their coven walls.

One Sunday, Cordelia is working in her office when there’s a knock at the door.

“Come in,” she calls. It’s Jasmin, looking unsure. “How can I help you, sweetheart?” she asks.

“There’s someone here asking to see you,” the girl replies.

“A witch?”

“I don’t know, Miss Goode. Will you come and see?”

Cordelia sighs, but stands. It’s likely to be a reporter, someone demanding facts and evidence or a comment for a journal. Kyle usually deals with them, but he’s out with Zoe today.

Jasmin leads her through the hallways, crowded with girls on their way to their next lessons, to the front door, which is ajar. Cordelia can see the silhouette of a figure, but nothing else.

“Sorry to disturb you, miss.”

“Don’t worry my darling. What lesson have you got now?”

“Pyrokinesis.”

“Be careful with that fire then. Off you go.”

Cordelia steels herself for whatever might be behind the door, but what is there makes her heart stop and her entire body freeze. Her hand flies to her mouth in disbelief.

“Misty?”

The blonde woman gives a familiar smile, wide but uncertain. “Miss Cordelia.”

Cordelia steps forward and reaches out for her, just like the first time they met. But now it’s not to check her identity, it’s to check that she’s really there, standing in front of her. Misty offers her hand and Cordelia grips it hard and it’s warm and solid and…

“How? How is this possible? You died, Misty, you…” Tears fill her eyes, but she’s aware of the students milling around watching the conversation out of the corners of their eyes, so she doesn’t allow herself to cry.

“It’s a long story,” Misty says, and her voice is so soothing Cordelia can’t help but let out a choked sob. “But I promise I’m here. I really am here.”

Cordelia laughs, short and incredulous. “This isn’t like the other times I’ve seen you. You really are in front of me, aren’t you?”

“I really am.”

That’s all it takes for Cordelia to throw her arms around the woman and pull her close, holding her so tightly that she probably can’t breathe and she almost pulls away but she can’t let go of her, not again. Misty’s arms come around her and they almost sway on the doorstep, oblivious to anyone watching.

“Shhhh,” Misty whispers into her ear, and that’s when Cordelia whispers that she’s quietly crying.

“I never want to let you go,” she whispers back.

Misty squeezes her, almost lifting her off her feet, and Cordelia has never felt so whole and warm and loved in her entire life. “You never have to.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I had one person asking me to continue this and there is such a lack of regularly updated Foxxay fanfics out there (eg. none) so I thought I would. Hope you like it!

Cordelia leads Misty inside and takes her to her office before anyone can intercept them. She won’t let go of her hand, won’t let her slip away, as the memories have been doing these past months.

“Say something, I want to hear your voice,” she says, as they close the door behind them and stand there looking at each other.

“Hi,” Misty says, and then giggles. Her eyes seem to smile along with her. Cordelia had always loved that about her.

“Hi,” she replies softly, and just stares at her.

Cordelia has never been someone who falls in love quickly. When she was younger, she’d get hung up over older people, developing slight obsessions with them and wanting them to like her, but she’d never been in love with someone her own age.

And then there was Hank, and he was seemingly so perfect and so available that she didn’t even question her feelings for him, and things had gone so fast and they’d ended up married before she’d had time to consider whether the ‘I love you’s coming out of her mouth mechanically had any meaning at all.

She had fallen in love with Misty Day all that time ago. She knows that now. It had become clearer through the months of mourning that the thing that she had labelled in her mind as her first genuine friendship had actually carried far more weight than that, for her at least. She’d told herself that if she ever had the chance again, even if it was in the afterlife, she’d tell Misty how hopelessly in love with her she has always been.

But now that the woman is standing in front of her, looking at her with those curious eyes that seem to have a slight glimmer of understanding in them, she wants to back away and put up her walls because maybe these feelings are too precious to share, especially if they aren’t reciprocated. So instead of pouring out the words, she settles for a hesitant, “How can you be here?”

“It’s a bit of a long story.”

“Then sit down,” Cordelia says. “I have all day.” She doesn’t want to have a desk between them, like a teacher and student, so she settles on the couch and motions for Misty to sit next to her. She takes everything about the other witch in - the layers of chiffon and hemp of her clothing, the tangle of string and semi-precious stones around her neck. Cordelia doesn’t try to hide the way her eyes naturally linger on the delicate collarbone, sliding down to take in her curves and shape of her. She wants to memorise her, in case she loses her again.

“I was trapped,” Misty begins. “In ma hell.”

“What was your hell?” Cordelia asks quietly.

“I was back in high school. Science class. Dissection. Had ta kill a frog over and over and over again, feelin’ myself taking its life force from it. And then I’d bring it back to life ‘cause I couldn’t stand what I’d done, and then it’d happen again. I felt like I was there for years.”

“Oh, Misty,” Cordelia takes her hand, gently stroking it, and her heart is warm for the girl, whose worst fear was robbing an innocent creature of life.

“That wasn’t my hell, though.”

Cordelia looks at her with a question in her eyes.

“I could hear ya voice, Delia. Callin’ me from the other side, callin’ me back. An’ I tried to follow it, I tried so hard. And then my time ran out and I could hear ya cryin’ over me, but I couldn’t reach ya. That was my hell. Listenin’ ta you losing me on repeat in ma head, feelin’ the real world slippin’ away. It got so bad I jus’ shut ma eyes and covered ma ears until I couldn’t see or hear nothin’, but I could still hear you, Miss Cordelia.”

“I…”

“The devil came to me, after what felt like days of that pain. He was dark an’ he had red eyes, and he told me we could make a deal.”

“You bargained with the devil?” Cordelia asks in shock.

“Not like that. He said I could return ta the world of the livin’, if I gave up who I was. All of it.”

“You mean your personality?”

“Personality, memories, magic, everythin’.”

“But you’re still you! You’re still the Misty I once knew.”

“Not quite. It took me months ta get it back. I roamed around like a los’ soul for a damn long time, and then I’d see things that would remind me, colours and animals an’ such, and it slowly all came back ta me. But it took me so long, ta remember my life here. I stayed in the woods, thinkin’ it over for ever so long, tryin’ to remember where my tribe was an’ where I had considered home. I guess it’s the things that’re most dear ta you that take the longest ta surface. But I did remember in the end. I remembered you.”

“I’m so glad.” Cordelia clasps the girl’s hands in her own. “I’m glad that you consider this your home.”

“Oh, it’s not this place,” Misty replies with a smile. “It’s nice an’ all, but this ain’t my home.”

“Oh,” Cordelia replies, her stomach suddenly churning with dread. Misty’s going to leave again. She’d never thought of this place as where she belonged. She was going to be wrenched away all over again…

“Not like that,” Misty says. “I mean home ain’t ever really a place, is it? It’s the one thing that makes your heart sing, and that makes you feel safe. That don’t have to be a building. Before I came here it was my music, my Stevie. And then it was you.”

“Me?”

“Of course,” Misty says, a look of confusion in her eyes. “I mean, maybe I remember wrong. I’m sorry.” She suddenly looks out of place, rubbing the tassels of her shawl between her fingers. Cordelia stills her hands gently and looks up at her.

“What do you remember, sweetheart?”

“I remember… I remember us bein’ in love. But maybe that was my imagination.”

Cordelia blushes, suddenly feeling trapped. Misty remembers the two of them being in love. But she’d never confessed, not even to herself. Had Misty known the whole time?

“Maybe I was jus’ trickin’ myself,” Misty says, and she’s never looked so dejected. “But I recall bein’ in the greenhouse with ya, and you teachin’ me all these things and touchin’ me like I was precious, like I meant somethin’ to ya. I remember nearly kissin’ ya, one of those days. But it was probably all in ma head…”

“You did mean something to me… you still do,” Cordelia confesses.

“But as a friend. It was jus’ friendship, wasn’t it?”

“No.”

“No?” Misty’s eyes suddenly have light in them again, and Cordelia doesn’t ever want to be the one to put that light out.

“No, I felt something for you from the moment we met. I couldn’t even see you and I was drawn to you. When I touched you the first time and I saw your story and felt what you’d felt, all that pain and suffering and loneliness, I wanted nothing more than to be the one who could take that away. I wanted to care for you, Misty.”

“An’ you did. Ya made me feel welcome here, like I’d never felt welcome anywhere else. I always thought I was a freak, like no one would ever want me. But you did.”

“I still do. Want you.” Cordelia looks up from her lap to find huge green eyes staring into hers like they’re seeing into the farthest caverns of her soul, but she doesn’t feel uncomfortable under the gaze.

“I want you too,” Misty murmurs.

And suddenly their lips are pressed together and it’s not cliché fireworks that Cordelia feels but something slow and warm and steady spreading through her, like sunlight dancing through leaves, and she knows that this is what real, pure, unadulterated love feels like. Her hands are in Misty’s hair and they’re pressed together, not breathing, just wrapped up in each other. Misty’s hands come around her waist as the kiss deepens and suddenly she’s straddling her, pulling herself to her as though she could become one being. Misty lets out a soft, low moan of pleasure and…

The door opens and Zoe bursts in saying, “Sorry, Cordelia, have you seen -”, and then stopping in utter shock as the two of them pull apart, flushed and breathing heavily. “Misty Day?!”

“Hiya,” says Misty sheepishly, and Zoe’s mouth literally drops open as she stares at the scene before her, unsure whether she’d more shocked about the fact that the woman has seemingly risen from the dead after a year, or the fact that said woman was passionately kissing the headmistress only seconds before.

“Yeah… I guess we’ve got some explaining to do,” Cordelia laughs.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two updates in one day and this is pure fluff, so I hope you like that kind of thing. (Actually it's basically domestic fluff tbh). These two really deserved a happy ending (or at the very least a happier one than what they got), so that's what I'm giving them.

“It’s okay, Misty, they’ll love you,” Cordelia insists, as Misty loiters near the door to Cordelia’s office. It’s dinnertime and Misty is nervous to face all of the 80 girls in the hall.

“You think so?”

“Of course. Who wouldn’t?”

“Kids have always teased me, Delia, I don’t know how to act around them,” Misty worries. Cordelia takes her in her arms.

“But now you’re among your kind. We’re all ‘freaks’ here, so none of us are freaks. They’re going to look up to you for your powers, not tease you.”

“An’ how are ya going ta introduce me?” Misty smirks.

“You’ll have to wait and see… and you won’t find out if you don’t get out there now, so come on.”

“Wait, will Zoe and Queenie be there?” She has been reunited with them and learned of Madison’s departure.

“Yes, they live in this building.”

“There’s more than one building??”

“Oh Mist, you’ve got a lot to catch up on,” Cordelia laughs. “Now let’s go.”

Misty hesitates, but Cordelia takes her hand and pulls her out of the room gently, and into the busy hallway. Misty can feel eyes on her, and she blushes, but Cordelia keeps a tight grip on her hand as she leads her into the dining hall. She takes her to the teacher’s table, where Zoe and Queenie and the head girls of all the age groups are seated, and clears her throat to address the hall.

A hush immediately falls, and the respect for Cordelia is evident. Misty feels something akin to pride. Cordelia always saw herself as weak and inferior to her mother, but here she is, commanding the attention of the whole room.

“Well done for your hard work today, girls,” Cordelia says in a crystal clear voice. “Zoe tells me many of you in the advanced classes are on your way to mastering telekinesis, and I can’t tell you how proud I am of the progress you’re all making.”

Misty notes the way people are glancing between her and Cordelia, and at their linked hands. She flushes at the attention and squirms a little.

“You will have noticed we have an unfamiliar witch in our midst today. This is Misty Day.”

There is a murmuring, and it becomes evident that people have heard of her.

“Some of you may know that I have been taking days off on the anniversary of Misty’s death,” Cordelia says, with a glance at the woman beside her, who bites her lip, imagining Cordelia’s pain. “That will obviously no longer be necessary. Misty is with us again, and although I will not tell you the whole story, all you need to know is that it would take an extremely powerful witch to make the journey that she has made.”

Suddenly people are looking at her in admiration.

“Misty is your elder, and she has a lot to teach you, if she decides to become a teacher here.” Cordelia looks to her, and Misty gives a nod and a smile. “However, I trust you will all treat her as you treat me - with respect, but also with trust and friendship.”

There is a collective nod.

“I would also like to say that it will not be necessary for there to be any speculations about the nature of the relationship between Miss Day and I. She and I are together, and I am going to assume that no one has any problem with that.”

Queenie nods and smirks, having been willing them to get together all along, and Zoe gives Misty a secret wink. She feels as though she’s glowing inside. Cordelia said that they’re together, publicly. She’s proud of her too, Misty realises, with butterflies in her stomach. God, she’s so head over heels for this woman.

“With that being said, I hope all of you enjoy your dinner and sleep well tonight, as it’s our monthly field trip tomorrow.” Cordelia sits, and chatter fills the room again as food is brought in. Misty sits beside her and tries to convey with just a look how much what Cordelia has said means to her.

Cordelia smiles shyly. “Did I do okay?”

“Perfect.”

 

Dinner has drawn to an end, and everyone is leaving the room to prepare for bed. Queenie and Zoe are leading the younger ones to their bedrooms, and the hall is quickly emptying.

“There’s so many of them,” Misty says in awe. “You went public about the witches, didn’t ya?”

“Yes.”

“That’s amazing. Christ, you’re about a thousand times better at being Supreme than your mother was, Delia.”

“You think so?”

“Of course.” Misty looks at her questioningly, and gathering that it’s okay, she leans down to press a kiss to Cordelia’s lips. The other woman sighs into her, and Misty relishes the feeling.

“This all feels too good to be true,” she admits.

Cordelia laughs. “It feels like a dream, right?”

“Totally. What d’ya normally do now then?”

“You mean in the evenings?”

“Sure.”

“Sometimes work, but usually I go to the younger ones’ dormitories and help put them to bed.”

“Are ya going to do that tonight?”

“If you’ll come with me.”

Misty draws in a breath. “Kids and me, Delia….”

“Don’t you like them?” Cordelia asks, sensing there’s more to Misty’s discomfort than what she had told her earlier.

“No, no, nothin’ like that. Kinda the opposite actually.”

“What do you mean?”

“I always want ta look after them, an’ care for them. I never had that when I was small, and I want ta give them that. But since I never had it, I don’t know if I’ll know how ta do it.”

Cordelia doesn’t know how one person could possibly be so precious. “It sounds like you’ll be a natural at it, Misty. No harm in trying.”

So they find themselves in the girls’ dormitory. They’re all mostly tucked up in bed, and Misty loves the sight of all those innocent faces looking up at them so expectantly. Cordelia dims the lights with just the flick of her wrist, so that there are only three nightlights glowing in the half darkness, and then she turns to Misty.

“I usually just go round and check they’re all doing okay. Why don’t you start on that side and I’ll start here?”

“Okayyy…” Misty watches as Cordelia approaches the first bed and kneels down beside it, stroking the hair back from the girl’s face and murmuring,

“Only sweet dreams tonight, okay darling? Remember you’ve got enough magic in you to ward off all those monsters if they try to chase you. You’ve got nothing to be scared of.”

Misty nervously walks over to the first bed on her side and sits down on the side of it. The girl has her whole body under the covers and Misty thinks she might be crying.

“Are you okay there?” she whispers. There’s no response, so she pulls back the duvet and finds a tear-stained face. “What’s wrong, honey?”

“I miss my mom,” the girl hiccups, and Misty feels a pang for her because she too had missed her mom once upon a time, but it was more the idea of the kind of caring mother that she would never have that had her crying herself to sleep at night. She scoots up on the bed and leans down towards the girl.

“Where is your mom, is she at home?”

The girl nods.

“Shall I tell you a secret?”

“Okay.”

“The reason why your mom sent you here, is because she knows how much potential you have inside of you. She believes with all her heart that you are special, and that you can be a wonderful witch.”

“She does?”

“Of course. So every time you cast a spell or learn somethin’ new, imagine that your mom is right beside you watchin’ you succeed an’ being proud of you. An’ that way, you won’t miss her so much, because she’ll be with you all the time. Does that help?”

“Yes,” the girl says, her crying subsiding.

“When are ya next going to see her?”

“Two months and three and a half days,” the girl tells her.

“Well you stop countin’ down those days, an’ I promise you it’ll go much quicker, an’ before you know it she’ll be givin’ you a big hug an’ takin’ you home.”

“Thank you, Miss Day,” the girl says.

“That’s alright, honey.” Misty stands up to move on, but the girl reaches out and says,

“Can I have a hug?”

“Course.” She leans down and wraps her arms around the girl, and when she straightens up she can see Cordelia watching her proudly with a smile that says, ‘I told you so’.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not the longest chapter, but it's Pride where I live tomorrow and I'm trying to get all my studying out of the way so that I can enjoy being there :') It's my first Pride ahhh I'm so excited. Hope you enjoy this!

Early morning sunlight filters into the room, staining the walls pale yellow, as Cordelia blinks awake. For a moment she just stares across the empty, white wooden floor to where the curtains are fluttering in the breeze and feels a familiar veil of loneliness and defeat settle over her, before she feels a movement behind her and suddenly it all comes flooding back.

Misty is alive. Misty has come back to her and she’s not going anywhere.

This is confirmed by a long arm wrapping around her waist from behind and a warm body curling into her, fitting snugly behind her knees and nestling into her neck with a sleepy moan, and Cordelia feels something akin to euphoria.

“Morning, you,” she murmurs, and Misty groans again. “It’s time to wake up, sleepyhead.”

Misty replies with something that sounds like, “I’m never leaving this bed,” and Cordelia can definitely relate, but as Supreme she has work to do.

“Would you get up if I told you we could go to the greenhouse?”

Misty immediately bounces up in a blur of vitality and Cordelia bursts out laughing at her enthusiasm.

“Is it just how it was before?” she demands, pushing curls out of her face, and Cordelia takes a moment to be glad that Misty wanted them to share the bed last night, because seeing her in the morning light, with her structured face softened by sleep, is one of the things she’d missed the most.

“Mostly. My advanced students take classes with me in there, but we have another greenhouse for the less experienced ones so that when things go bang there isn’t too much destruction.”

“I approve of that,” Misty says happily. “Those plants need quiet contemplation an’ Stevie to help them grow.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t mentioned Stevie before now,” Cordelia comments, climbing out of bed to grab clothes for the day.

“All that feels like another life,” Misty admits. “But I’m sure if I have a listen it’ll jog my memory. It’s all cloudy…”

“There’s a record player in the greenhouse,” Cordelia says, pulling her sleep top over her head and putting on a bra. Her back’s to Misty, but she can feel the other witch’s eyes lingering on her, so she turns around.

“Like what you see?”

Misty blushes red and looks down. “Didn’t mean to stare,” she says apologetically. “I just like the way you look. Your body needs appreciatin’.”

Cordelia laughs. “Is that so? Well, I’m not complaining. I’m yours now.”

“Mine,” Misty echoes, her eyes trailing over exposed skin curiously. “I’ve never had anyone be mine before. Is it supposed to scare me?” ‘Cause it does… in a good way.”

“There’s nothing to be scared of,” Cordelia tells her, buttoning up her blouse ad going over to the bed to soothe her. “Why does it scare you?”

“’Cause I don’t know what ta do. You’re not a plant, y’know?”

“No, I’m not a plant,” Cordelia laughs, and Misty gives one of her smiles that Cordelia has come to recognise, which means she doesn’t quite know how to phrase something.

“Plants don’t expect nothin’. I’m not saying you do,” she hurries to add, “I jus’ know how ta deal with them, because they don’t ask for nothin’ from me. But you’ve been married, Delia, you’ve had experience, and I never…”

“I don’t expect anything from you, Mist,” Cordelia says. “All I need is you, and your wonderful personality, and we’ll go from there. You could never disappoint me, never be anything less than what I need, because you’re you, and I’m in love with you. You always do everything right around me without even trying, simply because you’re exactly what I need. You have absolutely nothing to worry about.” She knows she’s rambling, but she hates the idea that Misty isn’t sure of her worth.

Misty nods and smiles slowly. “I’m in love with ya too, Delia. In case you didn’t realise that already.”

“I realised. But it’s nice to have confirmation of it. Get dressed now, and we can be down in the greenhouse before people start waking up.”

“I haven’t got any clothes with me… I came here as soon as the memories came back an’ didn’t stop for anything…”

“I’ve kept them,” Cordelia admits. “Your old clothes.”

“Why would ya…?”

“They smelled like you. And besides, I didn’t want to give you up. Getting rid of personal belongings feels like the end of the road.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” Cordelia sighs. “I gave myself up to self pity. You were the one who found your way back from that place.”

Misty stands with her. “An’ I’m so glad I did. But that’s in the past now, an’ you’re my future, an’ I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

And the two of them stare at each other like lovesick idiots until Cordelia jolts to her senses and goes to find Misty some clothes.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is super short... Had to listen to Rhiannon on repeat to write this chapter, and can't say I regret a moment of it. SUCH a good song.

The few hours they spend in the greenhouse that morning feel like heaven to Misty. She’s still often haunted by the cold, chemical scent of the laboratory and the icy press of the scalpel against her fingertips, and the sound of Cordelia sobbing in what felt like another dimension, but as soon as they step through the doors and enter what Misty’s had always thought of as her safe place here, she settles. The air is humid as usual, with the thick scent of pollen and damp earth, and she loves everything about it. Cordelia watches her amusedly as she flies around looking at everything like some kind of woodland fairy surveying her realm. Secretly, she makes her way over to the record player while Misty’s distracted and puts on Rhiannon, and as the first notes sound Misty looks up in surprise, and then recognition, and then what can only be described as pure happiness.

“Stevie,” she breathes, and begins to murmur the words. Cordelia’s never heard her sing, only having seen her watching Stevie rapturously at the piano, and finds her voice an odd mixture of husky and a little tuneless, but strangely enchanting and rather beautiful.

“Takes to the sky like a bird in flight an’ who will be her lover? All ya life you've never seen a woman, taken by the wind... would you stay if she promised you heaven?” Misty moves gently with the music, accompanied by the soft clicking of the stones around her neck and the rustle of her skirts. “Come join me, Delia!”

“I don’t dance, Misty…” Cordelia starts, but she already knows she’s beaten.

“C’mon, no one doesn’t dance. It comes so easy, jus’ try!” Misty hold out her hand, and Cordelia knows she couldn’t refuse her anything. She steps forward and Misty takes her hand and helps her spin, and Cordelia knows she’s inelegant, but Misty’s giggling and holding her hand and it reminds her of that time a whole year ago when they’d grown a plant together, and the feeling of triumph had led them to grasp hands and almost jump up and down for joy. She holds Misty’s waist and leans into her, and Misty’s eyes flutter closed as she presses a kiss to her lips, and then again, and again, until they’re back against one of the (cleaner) work benches and Misty lifts Cordelia up by her hips so that she can stand between her legs. Cordelia tangles her hands in Misty’s hair and tugs her closer and Misty honest to God whimpers, which turns her on more than she would have expected. She realises she’s only seconds away from being too far gone to come back, so she breaks away for a second to breathe. She relishes the sound of Misty almost panting, and meets her eyes to see they’re darker than normal, and her normally composed face is flushed.

“Woah,” is Misty’s only comment.

“Agreed,” Cordelia laughs, then pushes her back and jumps down from the bench. “Alright, time to go to breakfast.”

Misty narrows her eyes with a smirk. “Are you sure you’re a good witch, Delia? ‘Cause that was pretty evil if ya ask me.”

Cordelia does nothing but throw her a wink and walk off, leaving her no choice but to follow.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the little wait for this chapter. I actually kinda don't know where I'm going with this story, but I'm just sorta going with the flow :P

The field trip takes them to an actual, literal field, in a clearing of a forest that has been all but destroyed by a forest fire. The aim is to have a real life scenario in which to practice the power of resurgence, to show the girls that it’s not all fun and games, and it can be about actually saving lives and averting disaster. Cordelia’s quite proud of the idea.

The clearing is scorched and desiccated. The grass is mostly gone, and the trees are just blackened stumps dotted around it. Carcasses of squirrels and other small animals litter the ground, and it smells acrid. Misty wrinkles her nose up and shudders when she comes across the charred skeleton of a rabbit, and Cordelia has to lay a hand on her arm to keep her calm.

She has brought 30 of her most able witches, along with Zoe and Kyle who walk at the back of the group. Misty and Cordelia have been walking at the front, idly chatting with the girls as they make their way through the otherwise healthy and luscious forest. Evidently the fire brigade had made it before the fire has spread too far.

Now Cordelia stops, and brings the group to a halt behind her.

“I want you to all spread out around the clearing,” she tells them. “Don’t feel like you’re under pressure. I’m not expecting anything, because I know this is one of the hardest things to master. What I’m looking to see is all of you helping each other, working together as a team. Remember that too much of this can seriously sap your strength, and I don’t want you all collapsing everywhere. Take it slowly, no animals yet, just plants. Misty and I will be coming around to see your progress.”

The younger witches disperse, and Cordelia is left with Misty… and Jasmin.

“What can I do for you?” Cordelia asks the girl, who looks nervous.

“I’m not sure I can do it, Miss Goode. Resurgence, I mean.”

“That’s okay, sweetheart! You can’t lose anything by trying.”

“But what if I can’t? Does that mean I’m a bad witch?”

“Not at all,” Cordelia laughs lightly. “It just means that you have to take a little more time to learn. Hey, how about you go with Misty? Resurgence is one of her specialties. I’m sure she could give you a hand.”

Misty winks at Cordelia. “I’d love ta help,” she tells Jasmin. “I’m jus’ itchin’ ta get my hands on all of these plants an’ make ‘em green again.” She holds out her hand to the younger girl. “Where d’ya want ta start?”

“Over there?” Jasmin asks shyly, pointing to a pile of dry brush, surrounded by smoldering grass.

“Lead the way, then.”

Cordelia watches as the two of them begin work. It’s quite a picture - Misty in her pale yellow flowered sundress with her hair shining in the sunlight like a halo, and Jasmin a miniature version of her, kneeling beside her. She looks on as Misty takes Jasmin’s hands and buries them in the soil around the damaged plant, and says something to her. Jasmin nods and closes her eyes, as does Misty, and she can almost physically see the breath of life flow out of the two of them. Jasmin’s face is screwed up in concentration, which Cordelia finds a little hilarious, but suddenly the tips of the brush are green again, and life is creeping along all of the stems and shoots and bringing the bush back from the dead.

“Stop now,” Misty says gently to Jasmin. “Don’t want ta overdo it your first time.”

Cordelia knows that it’s mostly Misty’s magic that has brought life back to the plant, but Jasmin looks more confident now as she sits back on her heels and watches Misty finish the job.

Pink flowers are unfurling, the bush suddenly upright instead of slouched against the soil, and as a finishing touch a fat bee flies over and lands on a silken petal. It’s a glorious vision. Cordelia realises that everyone around the clearing is watching, and as Misty dusts off her hands and takes a deep, restoring breath, all of the witches erupt into applause. Cordelia expects Misty to blush and duck away from the attention in that endearing way of hers, which she does, but not before she takes a mock bow in front of them. Cordelia’s heart swells with how much she loves her.

A few hours later, the clearing isn’t restored to its true beauty, but it’s on its way there. A fine scattering of emerald grass covers the once bare earth, and the smaller plants are growing again. Misty has fetched water from a pool nearby in the woods, and the witches are carefully watering their creations. Cordelia kneels down beside Misty, whose hands are clasped around a dead bird.

“Let me,” she says. “You must be exhausted.”

Misty nods with a smile and allows Cordelia to work her magic on the creature. Within seconds it is airborne and disappearing into the cloudless sky. They stand together to watch it fly away, and Cordelia takes Misty’s waist to pull her into a kiss.

“Misty and Delia, sitting in a tree…” Zoe teases as she passes, and Misty swats at her playfully.

Cordelia wonders how it is possible that after just one day of Misty’s return she can be filled with such impossible happiness, and be seeing beauty in the world that had been completely hidden from her while she mourned. She comes to the conclusion that Misty might be a miracle.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ughh one thing I do not like about writing f/f fics is that you can't just say 'her' or 'she' because it's too confusing, you've got to specify which one! I never know how to do that without being repetitive.
> 
> Rating may change to M soon but idk...
> 
> ! Trigger warning: mention of past self harm, nothing graphic though. Hope that's okay <3
> 
> On an unrelated note, I'm so heavyhearted about the events in Orlando over the past few days. It is painful and awful to think of humans doing things like that to one another, yet it happens every day, everywhere. When are we going to learn to live in peace?

Misty has always been tactile, Cordelia remembers. She’s one of those people that have a wonderful disregard for personal space - wonderful, because Cordelia found herself craving that reassuring touch of hers, even back then, before the Seven Wonders.

Fiona had never hugged her when she was younger, and Hank had only done so when he was drunk or he’d done something he thought she’d dislike. It was only natural that she should shy away from contact as a result of that, never knowing quite what to expect. But Misty’s touch was constant, and completely mindless. She never had an agenda, and she wasn’t trying to make up for some kind of indiscretion. She seemed to just enjoy touching things around her, as though it connected her more to them, and helped her see them better.

When they’d worked in the greenhouse together, months ago, and Cordelia had not had her sight back yet, she’d never be able to anticipate when the touches would come. A brush of a hand against her shoulder, a firm but delicate grasp on her elbow when she was accidentally facing the wrong direction, spontaneous hugs that Misty would always envelop her in quickly, before she could foresee it and back away. Cordelia became absolutely addicted to it.

Misty didn’t avoid touching her skin as the others did, either. She knew of Cordelia’s second sight, of course, but Cordelia guessed that she felt she had nothing to hide. And she didn’t. Whenever ringed fingers would interlace with hers to guide her on their way back from the greenhouse Cordelia would see flashed of Misty’s life before the coven - endless solitary afternoons spent only in nature’s company, and the soft sighs of loneliness in her silent cabin at night. Those kinds of visions would awaken an almost maternal side of Cordelia, that she knew was inside her but was usually kept buried, and all she has wanted to do was look after the swamp witch, and make her forget that she had ever been so cripplingly alone.

The tactile element of their relationship has certainly not changed, now that Misty is back from her hell. In fact, it’s only intensified. Misty doesn’t seem to be one to mind public displays of affection, and Cordelia, who’d normally be reserved about such things, finds that she doesn’t anymore either.

There’s something completely and utterly different about being with Misty to being with Hank. Her relationship with Hank had largely been based on sex and long conversations (which in the beginning had seemed to her philosophical and romantic, but by the end she knew that they’d been just as hollow as the rest of him). Misty is the opposite. Sometimes they just enjoy complete silence, but at other times they’ll fall into an easy rhythm of back and forth talking, and Misty will say things which Cordelia has never even thought about before, and Cordelia will reveal things about herself that she’s never spoken of to anyone.

One night, when they’re curling up in their bed together after a long day of teaching, Cordelia’s nightdress rides up to expose the smooth skin of her inner thighs, and before she can think to pull it back down Misty has seen the thin, white, years old lines that are etched into her. She gives Cordelia a look of confusion, and then her eyes are glistening and she’s pulling the Supreme into her arms, pressing soft, loving kisses to her shoulders, and collarbone, and every inch of skin she can reach, almost feverishly. When she finally pulls away she says,

“You don’t… anymore, do ya?”

Cordelia shakes her head. “Not since I was a teenager.”

“Was it your mother who made ya…?”

“It was all sorts of things. I was lonely. I thought I’d never find anyone who’d love me, or see the real me. My head was an inescapable place at the time.”

“I love ya, Delia. I always will,” Misty promises. “Do you believe that?”

“Yes,” Cordelia breathes, the weight of no one ever knowing suddenly lifted off her shoulders; something she hadn’t even known had been weighing her down. “I’m never going to stop being grateful for you, Misty Day.”


End file.
